


Personal Hero

by MrsHamill



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-02
Updated: 2006-11-02
Packaged: 2018-05-21 09:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6047143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"A core of steel covered with bitter marshmallow, that's our Rodney."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Hero

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SG:A FlashFic challenge 'Exhaustion,' which is how I feel after roughly seven thousand re-writes of this damn thing. If you like it, bless Nansi, Linaerys, Sian, and Diluvian, but if it sucks, it's all my fault.

"Christ, you're a heavy bastard," Rodney gasped. "How can anyone as skinny as you weigh so much?" 

Rodney forced his head up, looking for the stargate, but there was nothing, nothing yet, just acres of bright, white sand. It figured. "I hope you appreciate this, you idiot. Doing that moronic hero bit, trying to get yourself killed, again. What is _with_ you, anyway, you have a death wish?"

Still unrelenting sand. Rodney glanced at the compass in his hand and corrected his direction slightly -- this planet had the fastest period and the strongest magnetic field he'd ever experienced, ever heard about. Thank God it was still dark and therefore relatively cool. And dark, still. Dark. He had to reach the stargate before sunup, there were no two ways about it. He put one foot in front of the other, trying not to think about the liquid trickling down his back which he hoped was sweat but feared was something else.

Was the sky getting lighter?

It was hard to hyperventilate when you were already out of oxygen from carrying a fucking heavy lieutenant colonel for two fucking miles, but Rodney tried. "If the Dark Ones come back, I swear to God I'm just going to drop you and run for it," he said, panting heavily. The body draped over his back began to moan and twitch. "Christ, no, I didn't mean it, Colonel, John, don't..." he said, stumbling to a halt. He couldn't fall because he was certain he wouldn't be able to get back up. "I won't leave you, I swear, just... just relax, just don't move, please?"

Sheppard's movement subsided and Rodney forced his feet to continue plodding, slogging through the sand. He was so tired... as a mental exercise, he tried to figure out how long he'd been awake. He knew it was close to twenty-four hours... maybe more. The brief day and night cycle threw him off.

"This is all your fault, you know," he muttered. "You wouldn't take a jumper, you stubborn, mentally challenged, overly-hirsute jerk... we could have been in Atlantis hours ago." Rodney's breath hitched. "And not only would I not be forced to carry your ass two miles, you wouldn't be... wouldn't be..." Rodney didn't want to say it, didn't want to think about it. "If you die on me I swear to God I'll follow you to hell just to kick your pasty white, skinny ass. Damn you." 

One foot in front of the other. Don't think about the sky getting lighter. Don't think about the weight on his shoulders -- the man who could die because Rodney couldn't get him back home fast enough. Don't think about the gunshot wound on his arm which throbbed in time with his heart. Don't think about the Dark Ones, those who only come out during the planet's brief daylight, the nightmare things which did not show up as life-forms on the scanner. The whos-its, the... Tlang-whatever did show up; they weren't human, no, they were exotically alien, but they were some kind of normal, carbon-based life-form for all they bled thick, blue-green blood. Deceptive little assholes about the size and shape of children and white, marble white where the Dark Ones were shiny black, like obsidian. Loathsome little cockroaches with only two legs.

They had the same weapons as the Dark Ones too. Damn them. Why didn't they fight their own fucking battles?

"I absolutely forbid you dying, Sheppard," Rodney said, as loud as he could, which wasn't much. "You hear me? I haven't managed to figure you out, yet. I haven't even seen you surfing, and I know you brought a surfboard back to Atlantis. God, I want to see you surf. I want to see what you look like dripping wet and dressed only in board shorts, even if I never get a chance to do anything but ogle you. If you die, I'll never find out if you've really been flirting with me. I've been flirting with you, you know."

Rodney checked his compass again and peered ahead... was that the 'gate? There was sweat in his eyes and he couldn't spare a moment to wipe it away. "I'm not all that good at it, I know. Flirting, I mean. And I know I'm hard to get along with. But you... you keep up with me. You laugh at my jokes, you even get them. I need you, John Sheppard, and I've never needed anyone. But you? I need you. Almost as much as I need water right now." Why did the planet have to be desert?

He knew he was rambling but he couldn't stop, afraid if he stopped talking, he'd stop everything and that was unacceptable. "I can't stop," he said. "Teyla and Ronon, they're counting on me. You should have seen Ronon's face when I threatened to cut off his balls if he didn't let me take you back to the 'gate." Teyla had actually been close to sniggering, despite their predicament, despite being held captive by the natives who had seemed so harmless until the Dark Ones attacked. "I wanted to kill them all, you know. When they refused to heal you. I tried to grab your P90 and just blast them into tiny, white pieces. Ronon stopped me. Some misguided sense of honor or other stupidity."

The sky was definitely getting brighter. Rodney tried not to think about the Dark Ones, who boiled up out of the sand, soundless killing machines. "Whatever that weapon did, the one that hit you, that made you... made you scream like that... I wish I had one. I wish I could use it on the Dark Ones. Hell, I wouldn't even use it on the _Wraith_ but I'd use it on them." That was a nice picture, the idea of taking all of them down.

"You know, Ronon said the... the... whatever they are were peaceful, hell, when he was still a runner they healed him with those stupid berries. They didn't work on you so well, did they? I wish they had. I wish... I wish you could walk. I wish you would wake up and be normal, give me that smirk you do so well. I hate that smirk. Well, no. I don't hate it. I want to kiss it. I think. But you're our very own Captain Kirk; you wouldn't take one look at me." Rodney sighed. "And I'm just talking to myself because I can. I'm glad you're still out, John. Stay unconscious, I'll... I'll do everything, get you back home, take care of you. Just don't die on me, okay?"

The DHD and stargate were finally in view and he forced his exhausted body to hurry -- the sun was rising, he had no time left. He had to move Sheppard's arm out of the way to punch in the address, then he was moving even as he hailed Atlantis and sent his IDC. "Lower the shield and get a med team to the gateroom!" he shouted. He staggered through, only hesitating long enough to hear the first syllable of confirmation.

He heard footsteps and raised voices as he all but fell into the gateroom, but his attention was on the man he carried, the man draped over his shoulders. As carefully as he could, he bent so Sheppard's body would slide down, limp as a washrag, to the floor. Rodney half-fell with him, cradling his head so it wouldn't hit too hard, then collapsed next to him. Sweat poured off Rodney's face and Sheppard's was far too pale. "Carson! I need a med team now! And close the goddamn 'gate!"

Elizabeth ran towards them and Rodney raised his hand. "No, don't get closer. He might wake up and that would be bad, that would be very, very bad."

"Rodney!" She crouched on the other side of Sheppard, more than an arm's length away. The guards on gateroom detail were still in ready stance. Good. "What happened? Where's Teyla and Ronon?"

"They're safe for the moment. Where's that damn med team?" Sheppard started to groan and twitch again and Rodney knelt over him, taking Sheppard's face gently between his gory hands. "No, not yet, come on, Colonel, we're home, you're safe, Carson's on his way here -- Carson!" The last word came out almost as a scream.

"He's coming, he's here, Rodney... oh my God, you're bleeding..." Elizabeth's eyes were wide as she stared at him.

"Not as much as he is and it's fine, goddammit, where's--"

"I'm here, Rodney, I'm here." Carson knelt next to Elizabeth, gently shouldering her away. "What's all this then?"

"He was hit by something, some kind of weapon. It made him go crazy. I think there might be internal bleeding, Carson, his color, his skin..."

"Go crazy how, Rodney?" Carson opened Sheppard's vest and jacket then gasped. Rodney knew what he was seeing so didn't look down, didn't try to find out if the gaping rents in Sheppard's chest and stomach were any worse than they had been. "My God. I need to get him to the infirmary stat. Stretcher!" 

Orderlies ran up with a wheeled bed and Rodney grabbed Carson's arm. "I have to stay with him, I'm the only one who can keep him under control. If you separate us, he'll get up, I swear, and he'll kill himself this time. Carson--"

"Rodney, I understand. You're bleeding anyway so you're coming with us."

Rodney breathed a sigh of relief and rose with the gurney, making sure to keep one hand on Sheppard's body at all times, making sure that if John Sheppard did regain consciousness, the first thing he would see would be Rodney McKay's face. His touch was the only thing that had kept Sheppard from going berserker back on that fucking cesspool of a planet. And that touch would have to end soon  because Rodney still had work to do.

In the infirmary, Carson arranged it so that Rodney could stay at Sheppard's head, moved the IV pole and monitoring equipment to one side. "I need to know what I can give him, Rodney," Carson said, starting the IV. "Was he drugged? How did his belly get so shredded?"

"It wasn't a drug, at least I don't think so. The damage was self-inflicted, after he was shot. We used some of the berries, we only had a few, on him. That's the blue, they were blue. We crushed them. But we didn't have enough." Rodney slumped and wanted to fall over, wanted to pass out and sleep for a week. Instead, he concentrated on Sheppard's too-pale face. "It was like an ambush. We were meeting with the people, the... the..."

"The Tlanga," Elizabeth said and Rodney looked up in surprise. He hadn't even known she'd followed them to the infirmary.

"Yeah. Them. We were meeting with them, at night, they only meet people at night, you remember what Ronon said. The planet's got an incredibly fast period; full days are something like twelve and a half hours. The sun came up and suddenly we were under attack, all of us, no warning, no provocation." Rodney tried to wipe his face but realized a little too late that his hand was covered in blood, Sheppard's blood. Or his own. He couldn't tell any longer. "The tela-whosits started screaming about the Dark ones and ran away while we returned fire. Colonel dumb-ass here stayed right out in the open, trying to give us cover, when they hit him." Rodney closed his eyes, seeing it all replay in slo-mo on the inside of his lids. "It was a bright white light, it just... covered him. He went crazy. Started shooting wildly and screaming, tearing at himself, his clothes, the rocks, us, them -- whatever they were and if I could just get my hands on one of them..."

"Was he conscious?" Carson and the orderlies were cutting Sheppard's bloody clothing away and Rodney heard Elizabeth gasp as the man's stomach was bared. Rodney closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see.

"Sort of. I don't know. He was moving, but it wasn't deliberate movement. He was like the Terminator, nothing stopped him. His arms and legs were jerking, flailing, like... like... I don't know. Did I say he was screaming? He was." Rodney swallowed hard. "Until I tackled him."

Carson looked up at Rodney. "You what?"

"I tackled him. Brought him down. I couldn't think of anything else to do, Carson!" Rodney started shaking but managed to suppress it. "He got one shot off at me, got my arm pretty good, then we went down and he... he just passed out. Like that." Sheppard started to moan again and Rodney leaned over his face, upside down. "No, don't wake up, c'mon John, be good for me. Let Carson work his magic, okay?" He'd passed out, right, but not before recognizing Rodney. He knew Rodney; somehow, he knew Rodney could help him. Trusted Rodney. Thank God for small favors.

"You've got a bandage around your arm," Elizabeth pointed out and Rodney blinked at how shaky her voice was.

"Yeah, Ronon patched me up, before the white ones, the Tlung-whatever came back, after dark. Teyla worked on the Colonel, we just wanted to get him stable. They're still back at the rocks, where we were meeting with the whosits, they wouldn't let us leave, and I need to get back there and get them out." 

Sheppard had subsided and Rodney looked up; from the confused looks on everyone's face, he realized he was probably not making a lot of sense. "Look. They wouldn't let us go, wouldn't heal Colonel Sheppard, told us we had to stay and fight the Dark Ones. So Ronon and Teyla, they made a diversion, gave me cover while I got this jerk back. He's a hell of a lot heavier than he looks, let me tell you. Carson, I need to go, need to get back there, get them out." 

"Wait, you _carried_ \--" Elizabeth started, but Rodney cut her off.

"It's not important! Carson!" Carson looked up from mopping the blood and berry juice on Sheppard's chest and belly, and Rodney continued. "I can't leave until I know he's not going to freak out again, but I need to get back there. Can you..."

"I've got samples of his blood being analyzed, Rodney. I don't dare give him anything until I know whether it's going to harm him." Carson looked so apologetic.

Rodney closed his eyes again briefly. "What part of I need to go _now_ don't you understand? Isn't there something you can do? Carson, the sun was coming up as I 'gated home!"

"Rodney, I can send Lorne..." Elizabeth said, but Rodney cut her off.

"No, I have to go. _I_ do. Lorne doesn't know where Teyla and Ronon are, won't know what to look for and the goddamn sun was coming up. The Dark Ones come out with the sun, dammit. Carson, I need to go!"

Carson looked like he wanted to yank his hair out in big clumps. "Fine, then. I don't dare sedate him, but maybe a nerve block... Aye. That might do." He looked up at Rodney. "Go. Bring me back one of those things if you can, whatever it was that hit him. Hurry. And come back in one piece!"

Rodney wanted to keep touching Sheppard but couldn't, he just turned and took off towards the jumper bay. As he ran, he unwrapped and shoved a half-melted Powerbar into his mouth, trying to banish the leaden exhaustion in his arms and legs. He found Lorne and a squad of marines waiting for him in Jumper One, and shoved Lorne away from the controls. "I know where we're going."

As soon as the puddlejumper was through the 'gate, he cloaked it and raised his voice. "Listen to me. I don't know what's going on with these things, but they're not human and they've got weapons that make Wraith stunners look like squirt guns. You saw me carrying the Colonel back to Atlantis. You do _not_ want to get hit." The sun was well up in the brief day of the planet and Rodney felt panic; were Teyla and Ronon still okay? "I don't even intend to do anything but get Teyla and Ronon on the jumper and back to Atlantis. If you see _anything_ other than them move, shoot it. If it's not Ronon or Teyla, it's a target."

There was dead silence in the jumper and Rodney finally glanced to his right at Lorne, who had the most peculiar expression on his face. "Do you understand?" Rodney demanded.

"Yes, sir," Lorne said. "You guys got that? Cover fire if needed, shoot to kill, stay the fuck down."

Rodney heard a rustle of fabric and a murmur of assents from the marines in the back and relaxed marginally. 

Before he was ready, they arrived at the concentric rings of standing stones where everything had started. He could see the ring, which stood in the desert near the river oasis, was nearly surrounded by the things and thought he could see firing... Ronon's mutant handgun? Yes, it was, and Teyla was with him. Thank God.

He saw where the worst of the attack was coming -- from the desert -- and snarled in rage. "What the fuck are those?" he heard Lorne whisper but he didn't answer. Instead, he called up weapons and fired at the stone standing the farthest from Teyla and Ronon, causing quite a spectacular explosion. 

He de-cloaked and landed carefully, facing the assault and giving the best cover he could. "Get them onboard!" he shouted back to the marines and was gratified to hear his orders being carried out. A bright light arced towards him and he flinched involuntarily. The jumper protected him, though, and the shot from the weapon dissipated.

Within a few moments, he heard Ronon's deep voice. "McKay! Go!"

Rodney didn't hesitate. He cloaked the jumper again and lifted, heading for the 'gate and home and safety and hopefully John Sheppard, too, ignoring the trembling in his hands, in his whole body.

* * *

Rodney led the way to the infirmary, nearly running in his haste to get there. He knew Teyla and Ronon followed him and knew they were largely okay from his glances at them. They still needed attention from Carson, he knew, but his focus was on Sheppard. Had he gone crazy again in Rodney's absence?

Then he was there and everything was all right, thank God. He skidded to a stop near Sheppard's bed, giving Carson a panicked look. "Is he..."

"He's fine, for the moment, though I could use more information on that weapon. Until you ran in, he'd been spasming and groaning, so I want you to stay right here next to him while I tend to Teyla and Ronon." Carson gave him the fisheye. "Don't you dare go anywhere. I've still got to see to that arm."

Collapsing on a stool next to Sheppard's bed, Rodney just nodded, tried to catch his breath. Ronon was limping and Rodney could see blood on his leg. Teyla had a lot of cuts and scrapes, but was otherwise unhurt. Elizabeth ran in with Lorne on her heels and looked around, taking in Teyla's and Ronon's presence, nodding to Rodney. "Is everyone all right?"

"Ronon has been shot--" Teyla began, in a voice which sounded as tired as Rodney felt.

"It's not serious," Ronon interrupted her. 

Carson pushed him down on a bed. "Aye, we'll make sure of that."

"Teyla?" Elizabeth looked almost ready to embrace Teyla and Rodney blinked.

"I am fine." They reached each other and touched foreheads for a lingering moment. "We are exhausted and have many minor wounds, but we will be fine."

"Thank God."

"Dr. Beckett, I have one of the weapons used on Colonel Sheppard," Teyla added, holding it out for him to take. 

"Good lass!" Beckett said, carefully grabbing the weapon. "Dr. Biro, can you see to Ronon, please?"

Rodney listened to them talk with half an ear while he stood -- well, sat -- watch over Sheppard. His color was better and he seemed to be breathing easier. There were multiple bags hanging from the IV pole and a line of something ran to his back. 

"They just appeared, came up out of the sand," Ronon was saying when Rodney turned his attention back to the room. "The Tlanga called them the Dark Ones. I thought they were just a scary story."

"They didn't register as life-forms," Rodney said, loud enough for them to hear him. In the sudden, absolute silence of the room, he continued. "Only the whos-its did."

"And they claimed to have never been culled," said Teyla, very softly. He heard several gasps at that.

"Like Proculus?" Elizabeth. "Were there Ancients..."

"No, I was the first human they'd ever seen." Ronon sounded very frustrated. 

"What happened to the Colonel?" Carson's voice was grim. "Rodney has given us some of it, can you describe in detail what happened?"

Rodney didn't feel like listening to the description of Sheppard being shot; every time he closed his eyes, he saw John screaming and thrashing, going wild. John had acted almost like he was on fire, his eyes rolled up in his head and his mouth open in a continuous shriek of agony.

"Teyla kept trying but they wouldn't heal him," Ronon was saying. "We had to restrain McKay from killing those little bastards." Rodney blinked; could that have been admiration in Ronon's voice?

After a long moment, Teyla spoke again. "Dr. McKay threw himself on Colonel Sheppard. It was a blessing from the Ancestors that he did not get hit by the Dark Ones. Thankfully, that worked. They both went down, luckily under some cover. We did not even know Dr. McKay had been hit until after darkness fell."

"Holy shit," Lorne breathed. "Why didn't you radio for help?" 

Oh, please, Rodney thought to himself, mentally rolling his eyes. Teyla beat him to a reply, and she was far more diplomatic than he would have been. "We tried. Once we were out of sight of the stargate, we were unable to pick up or transmit anything, even between ourselves." 

"Magnetic interference," Rodney muttered darkly. "That hell-hole has the strongest magnetic field I've ever seen, maybe it's related to its fast rotational speed. I don't know, I'm a physicist, not a planetary geologist." Rodney turned back to Sheppard and made sure he was still under. "We didn't think it would be a problem, as this was supposed to be a goddamn milk run." 

Teyla sighed and nodded. "Believe me, we would have done so if we could have. We managed to keep the Dark Ones at bay long enough that the sun began to set. As soon as it did so, they disappeared. The Tlanga returned somewhat later. Dr. McKay thinks they may be... what is the word you used, both air and water breathing?"

"Amphibious." Rodney said. "They live in the river, I think. Tiny little assholes, just like those little black... things. The Dark Ones. They were like... like photo negative images of each other, one white like the sand, the other black and shiny. The white ones came out in the dark, the Dark Ones only in the sun." Came out in the sun and then did their very best to kill them. A yawn caught Rodney by surprise -- he was so damned tired.

"The Colonel's injuries demanded we return to Atlantis," Teyla said, "and we knew we needed to leave before the sun rose. As we were about to return to the stargate, the Tlanga reappeared. They forbid us..." Teyla fell silent and Rodney turned. She gave him the same bleak stare he knew he was giving her.

"Teyla?" Elizabeth pitched her voice very low.

After a moment, Teyla turned back to Elizabeth and said, "Elizabeth? We must never, ever go back to that world."

"Not unless you send me with a nuke," Rodney agreed before it hit him, Teyla used Elizabeth's name. Probably no one else in the infirmary noticed or understood the significance of it, but still. No wonder Elizabeth had looked so concerned about Teyla. 

"We were heading out, back to the stargate," Ronon growled. Dr. Biro was working on what looked like a hole in Ronon's leg. "The Tlanga came back and demanded we stay. They had the same weapons, Wraith take them. They could have at least shared."

"There were only a couple of hours before dawn and the Dark Ones," Teyla started, but Rodney interrupted her. 

"They had us under guard." He turned again, sharing another look with Teyla and Ronon. "The Colonel was bleeding out, we were exhausted, so I did the only logical thing."

"We made a diversion, then Dr. McKay carried Colonel Sheppard back to the stargate, to get help," Teyla said softly.

The amazement and awe in everyone's face made Rodney want to scream and throw things. "Well what else could I do?" he demanded. "Have Ronon carry Sheppard back? Then Teyla and I would be dead now! That place wasn't defensible and I'm not the fighter Ronon is."

"You certainly sounded like one when you threatened to remove my balls if I didn't let you go," Ronon said, and the amusement was clear in his voice. Amusement and... respect?

Rodney snorted. "At least you can follow orders. And he would have done the same for me -- for any of us." That was the only reason Rodney did it, anyway, because Sheppard was part of his team. Sheppard had saved Rodney's ass enough times. And it wasn't that big a deal, even if it was two fucking miles in that fucking sand hounded by his fears that the fucking Dark Ones would come back.

Not, of course, that Rodney wanted to over-analyze his feelings over Sheppard's near-death experience. That way led to thoughts that Rodney was quite positive he shouldn't have.

* * *

John Sheppard felt no pain; in fact, he was flying high even though he was -- at least he was pretty sure he was -- horizontal in a bed. From the sounds, which kept fading in and out, and the smells, he was in the infirmary again. He couldn't quite remember why, and couldn't quite decide if it was important to know, so he just listened when he could.

It was Beckett's voice he heard first. "...A sort of neural overload. It's no wonder he went mad, every nerve in his body was firing, all at the same time."

"What can we do?" That was... That was Rodney's voice. John took a deep breath and relaxed back. If Rodney was with him, everything would be okay.

"I have him on a cervical nerve block that..."

When noise faded in again, it was Teyla speaking, very softly. In the background, John could hear Rodney's voice bitching and complaining. "...I have never seen him like that, so focused."

"I have." That was Elizabeth. John frowned but couldn't muster the strength to open his eyes. "When he came back from Ford's world, overdosed on Wraith enzyme." Elizabeth made a sound that was mid-way between a chuckle and a sigh. "A core of steel under a mound of bitter marshmallow, that's our Rodney."

If John could have laughed, he would have. Yeah, that described McKay pretty damn well.

"He is an enigma to me, at times. And I do believe I will have to find a way to rid him of that horrible salve he puts on his skin to protect it in the sun. The smell is overpowering." They both chuckled but Teyla sounded utterly wiped. "That planet..."

"We're putting the address on permanent block. No one will be going back." 

"Good."

"You need sleep, Teyla."

"We all do. Elizabeth... I am... I have only been afraid like that a few times in my life. Not even in a hive ship..."

"I'll go with you, my heart. Give me a few moments to talk to Carson and to Rodney."

Whoa. Teyla and Elizabeth? If John hadn't been so completely and utterly wiped, he might find that...  damn hot. It did make sense, in a twisted, surprising sort of way. John contemplated that as he let the world fade out again.

The third time he semi-woke, he heard Carson again. "...Need to get some sleep and to shower, Rodney. You don't have to stay."

"Yes, I do."

"He's _fine_ now, Rodney. The block is allowing his nerves to regenerate properly. He won't go berserk again, I promise."

"I'm not leaving." Yep, that was Rodney's petulant voice. Petulant and... really, really tired. 

"He can stay," John said. He surprised himself; his voice was raw and from a pretty painful throat.

"You're awake?"

"The man is a genius," John rasped.

"Here are some ice chips, Colonel," Carson said gently. "Open up." John let the spoonful of ice chips melt on his tongue and damn that felt good. "How do you feel?"

"Um..." John realized his eyes were still closed and he dragged his lids up, though they wouldn't stay. There must have been a weight on them. "I... Why can't I feel anything?"

"You're on a nerve block from your chest down," Carson explained quietly. "You shouldn't be feeling anything at all."

"Then why ask him how he feels, Carson? That's an utterly moronic question, especially coming from you."

John smiled, or at least tried to. "That's my Rodney," he murmured. Marshmallow over steel.

There was silence for a moment then he heard Rodney say, "What? What did he say? Are you sure there was no brain damage?"

John fuzzed out again, because he didn't think the question needed answering.

Waking up for the fourth time -- he thought it was the fourth time, anyway -- he didn't hear anyone. Carefully, he rolled his head to the side, expecting to see McKay. Instead, there was Ronon, sitting on a stool at his bedside. 

"Hi."

"Ronon. You okay?"

"Yeah. Some stitches, some bruises. Nothing major."

"Good. Teyla?"

"Less than me."

"Also good. Where's McKay?"

Ronon snorted. "Being hosed down by Beckett. He hasn't slept and was covered in sweat and blood but it still took Beckett and two big orderlies to get him away from you. I had to promise to stay while he was gone."

John figured it would hurt to laugh so he didn't, though he wanted to. "Stubborn bastard."

"Yeah." Ronon looked down at his hands.

"What?" He wasn't completely fluent in Ronon body language, but he was getting there and that was a worried pose.

Sure enough, Ronon glanced up and looked extremely uncomfortable. "McKay."

"Yeah? Is he okay?"

Ronon shrugged. "You clipped him in the arm. Nothing serious. But..."

John sighed. He knew he had to be patient to get Ronon to talk because pushing wouldn't help. Sometimes -- okay, most of the time -- Ronon took taciturn to new and dizzying heights.

"You and him. You aren't..."

"What, Ronon?"

"He carried you." John must have looked blank because Ronon finally elaborated. "You remember what happened?"

"We were pinned down. I got hit." A bright light and then... "Christ but that hurt."

"Yeah. It looked like it did."

"Would you just tell me what the fuck happened?"

Ronon rolled his eyes. "McKay took you down, kept you from hurting yourself more. When the sun went down, those little black bastards disappeared. We had some berries, remember?"

John nodded. "Yeah."

"We used what we had on you, most of it anyway, but it didn't seem to help much. We were worried that you had internal injuries and McKay had to keep his hand on you or you started freaking out again." 

"He did? I did?"

"Yeah. So we were just about to get you to the stargate when..." Ronon made a sound that was midway between a sigh and a snarl. "I didn't know about the Dark Ones, Sheppard. I swear. I wouldn't have--"

"Knock it off. Nobody's blaming you for anything and you can get that through your thick skull now." Using the command voice hurt his throat so he rolled his head, looking for water or ice. "Scoop some  of those ice chips into my mouth, would you? I still can't move or feel anything below my shoulders."

"You should be glad you can't. You're pretty torn up." Ronon fed him a spoonful with a surprisingly gentle touch. "Better?"

"Yeah. So, the Tlanga, did they come back when the sun went down?"

"Yeah." Ronon put the cup back. His mouth was a thin line. "I asked them to heal you and they refused. We told them we were going back to Atlantis and they pulled the same damn weapons out and said they'd use 'em on us if we tried to leave. I owed them a life-debt or I would have shot them myself. McKay almost did. Teyla tried talking to them but they wouldn't listen."

"Well, that doesn't make any sense," John said. His head was beginning to swim again and he wasn't sure how much energy he had left. "So how did I get back here?"

"McKay. He told us to cover for him, picked you up and carried you back to the 'gate."

"McKay?" Jesus. McKay carried him for _two fucking miles_? "Why didn't you stop him?"

"He threatened me. Then he said he was the logical one to get you back because I'm the warrior and he's not."

"He threatened you."

"Yeah." Ronon snorted and John was amused to note a grudging admiration for McKay coming out of Ronon. "I always thought he was a lightweight, you know, he's always complaining. I never saw him like that before. He told me if I wanted to keep my balls that I'd shut up and let him get you back to safety. I believed him, too."

"Wow." A yawn caught John by surprise. "Sorry. Good drugs."

"Yeah, I hear that. But I just wanted to know why, why he did that. He was wounded, too, but never said a word about it once I got him patched up. So you and him, you're together, right?"

"Together?" Yeah, the light was getting fuzzy around the edges and he wasn't sure what Ronon meant. 

"You and him. I mean, I doubt he would have done that for me. Maybe for Teyla. But you? He never even hesitated."

John meant to answer Ronon's question but to do that, he would have had to think about it, try to figure out what Ronon meant. The drugs were a little too good and made that impossible, though.

When John woke up again, for whatever time it was, the light was dimmer and he could feel his arms and hands and part of his torso. Everything ached like he'd run several marathons and a couple of those triathlons as well, but it wasn't the excruciating pain he remembered. When he tried to shift on the bed, though, he grunted in sudden discomfort.

"Quit that." Rodney again. "You'll only make yourself hurt worse. You want some water? There's ice here too. Carson said you can have food in the morning if you're up to it."

"Just some more ice, please." 

Rodney scooped some in and he let it melt on his tongue and dribble down his throat. Pure pleasure.

"Better?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

John turned his head so he could face Rodney; it hurt far less than it had before. Still on the good drugs, then. "You look like shit," he murmured.

"Yeah, thanks for that. That's what happens when you're up for... um... I'm not sure how long now. You don't look much better, you know." Rodney scrubbed his face with his hands. He was sitting on the same stool Ronon had been perched on. His clothes were fresh but his face was pale and he had dark circles under his eyes. "Carson said the nerve block should be wearing off... you feel anything yet?"

"Yeah." There must have been a wealth of innuendo in that response because all Rodney did was smile crookedly -- it didn't reach his eyes -- and nod.

"You remember what happened?"

"Yeah. Sorta." Thinking about that bright, white light made John's muscles spasm. "Ow. Fuck."

"Calm down, we're all safe and fine."

"I know that," John said, even as he eyed the bandage around Rodney's upper arm. "Liar."

"Just a flesh wound. Compared to what happened to you, it's a mosquito bite."

John couldn't believe it. "I shot you! And you're not complaining about it? Has Heightmeyer checked you out, yet?"

"Will you shut up? So you missed my leg this time, it's not a big deal. I didn't get hit with one of those stupid stunners, so..."

"Energy weapon. The bright light. Christ." John's body began to spasm again.

"Either you cut that out right now or I'm calling Carson and telling him to stick you with lots and lots of needles." John took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. Rodney's warm hand on his arm was a good focal point and he concentrated on that warmth, concentrated on relaxation. He was fine. They both were. They all were. "Good. You got hit by something that Carson says completely fucked up your nervous system, which is probably why you're all jumpy -- he said that might happen for a while. Hopefully you don't remember much after that."

"I... I..." No, he didn't remember much beyond excruciating pain, like how he figured being burned alive would feel. "I remember you. Your face."

Rodney looked surprised. "You do?"

"Yeah. I remember... I remember thinking, if you were there, it would be okay, everything would be okay."

Rodney swallowed and looked away.

"What?" John asked, frowning. 

"N-nothing." Rodney's voice sounded odd, choked. 

"Ronon didn't tell me what happened after you got me to Atlantis. Did you come back with reinforcements?"

"Yeah, though not to fight, just to get Ronon and Teyla out of there. I'll tell you all about it when you get out of here. Just know that I had to carry your skinny but far too heavy ass for two miles, Colonel, and I'd recommend you go on a diet if you didn't look anorexic as it is."

"Ronon told me. I still can't believe you did that."

"Somebody had to." Rodney sounded almost sullen which was far more normal. "You kept trying to wake up and I was the only one who could keep you calm, keep you under, which figures. I'm sending you my chiropractic bill."

"Yeah." John did remember that, or something like that, forcing his body to focus on Rodney's touch so that he could feel nothing else, none of the horrifying pain. He still found it hard to believe Rodney had carried him. Rodney, who had been wounded and who hated to hike (especially in sand), carried John for two miles. Talking to him all the way, probably.

Talking. Yes. For some reason, the word... "Flirting?"

Rodney started and flushed. "Uh, what?" John grinned -- never give Rodney a secret to keep. Because he wouldn't.

"Why is that word stuck in my head?" Suddenly, he remembered what Ronon had asked about him and Rodney, and there was a little click at the back of his brain. 

"I--I don't have any idea," Rodney said, but he was turning a very nice shade of red. "Um... by the way, I think we're even, now," Rodney said and John frowned.

"Huh?"

"You know, in this 'you save me I save you' game? I know it's quid pro quo for us and really, that's not how it should be because you've saved my ass more times than I can count and..."

Rodney was babbling. Well, that was nothing new, Rodney babbled a lot. But between the babbling and what Ronon had said... and there it was, a sudden illumination. And wasn't it interesting? Surprising, but interesting. "Rodney."

Stopping in mid-word, Rodney blinked at him. "What?"

"Come here."

"Huh?"

"Come. Here." 

Rodney's face looked like he'd just voluntarily eaten a whole lemon, but he stood up, leaned a little closer. "What?"

Very carefully, John reached out with one hand, touched Rodney's face then tugged on the back of his neck. "C'mere. Down here." Now Rodney's was closer, close enough for John to get his other hand -- wired to an IV -- on Rodney's face. Carefully, John drew him down. "You're going to have to get closer than that," he murmured.

"For wh-- what are you-- what? What are you doing?" Rodney's voice was softening and he was  breathing a bit harder so he was getting with the program, maybe. Hopefully.

Just before they touched lips, John said, "I'm kissing you. Any objections?"

"Uh..." 

Before Rodney could say anything else, John captured those crooked lips with his own, kissing Rodney as sweetly as he could, given that he was still confined to a bed and couldn't feel much below his waist. With a tiny, breathy, barely-there moan, Rodney kissed him back. Oh, yeah. 

Any resolution of John's that he'd have to take it easy and careful with Rodney flew out the window when Rodney opened his mouth and just invaded John's, without hesitation. There was definite skill and resolve in that kiss which deepened rapidly to the point where John started to hate the fact that he couldn't feel much below his waist and holy shit, Rodney was going to have to do that move again, several times. Then John thought about what Rodney had just done with his tongue and translated it to his dick and he whimpered.

Immediately, Rodney pulled back. "Omigod, I'm sorry, did I hurt you? Are you okay? What--"

"Shut up and kiss me again," John gasped, yanking Rodney's head back down. This time he was the invader, wrapping his shaky hands around Rodney's head and just going for it. Lips and tongue and teeth, the sweetness of Rodney's mouth which tasted like coffee. Coffee and Rodney.

When they broke for air, John wondered if he looked as completely dazed as he felt. Rodney certainly did. "What... why...?" And John had managed to reduce the McKay Mouth to single syllables, even handicapped as he was. Excellent. Just thinking about how quiet -- or maybe how noisy -- he could make Rodney when he could feel everything was enough incentive to want to try.

It took him a few moments to get his brain back online. He found Rodney staring at him with an incredibly vulnerable and almost lost expression. "I get it," John finally said. He swept one thumb over Rodney's cheekbone.

"Get what?"

"Ronon. He came in earlier, asking me about what you did. He asked..." John paused and smiled. It was undoubtedly a sappy, drugged smile, but what the hell. "I didn't get it then, but I do, now. I just needed you to know, it's okay. I love you too."

"I... what?"

John really hated that look on Rodney's face and wanted like hell to erase it, especially since he was pretty sure he'd put it there to begin with. Things had been strained between them since Doranda, and it was time -- past time -- to end that. "I said, I love you too," he repeated slowly, as if talking to a child. Or to a moronic genius.

Rodney gave him a wary look. "You're on drugs."

"Yeah. They're really good drugs too. So?" 

Rodney searched John's face, looking for something and apparently finding it. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out; instead, he leaned down and took John's mouth again. This kiss was gentler but it was still damn hot. John had the absurd thought that he'd better get well soon, because he had a feeling Rodney was going to put him back in the infirmary. And wouldn't it be fun?

"If you don't stop that, I'm going to have to do something that's going to make Beckett really, really pissed at both of us," John panted as the kiss ended. Goddamn it, he would have to be under a nerve block now that he finally figured out what he needed. Now that he finally realized what he needed actually needed him right back.

Rodney made a noise that sounded midway between a chuckle and a sigh. "I find that hard to believe," he whispered. "I don't think either of us could get it up with a crane at the moment."

The look John hated was slowly being replaced with hope and something that might have been relieved happiness, but whatever it was, it was laced with utter exhaustion. "You're probably right. Listen. See that bed over there? Pull it over, snug against mine."

"Huh?" 

Yeah, that was complete exhaustion all right. Rodney had probably been up since before the mission started, and John had no idea how long that had been. Rodney was definitely on the verge of catastrophic cascade failure and it was nothing new. How many times had Rodney come through for them even worn out and half-dead from lack of sleep? The answer to that was probably 'too many times.' "The bed. Push the bed over here." Frowning in concentration, Rodney moved the stool out of the way and shoved the empty bed over. "Lock it down," John added, and Rodney did so. "Good. Now get on it."

"Huh? You don't... this isn't..." Even as he protested, Rodney did as John asked, curling up on his side, facing John.

"Just shut up and lie down, McKay. I'm fine. I can cover, now. You can stand down."

"You know, that is the stupidest expression," Rodney muttered, and something tight in John began to relax as he listened to Rodney bitch. If Rodney was bitching, then all was right with the universe. "And the military has a bunch of them, but that must rank as one of the worst..." 

"Rodney. You need to sleep. You can save the world again tomorrow. And maybe we'll go surfing." In his mind's eye, John saw Rodney McKay, exhausted, strung-out, wired with uppers and working frantically to save Atlantis, to save Elizabeth or Carson or Teyla or Ronon or Ford or John; carrying John for two miles across a desert -- with complaint, always, well usually with complaint -- but also because he knew it had to be done. John hadn't realized just how much he relied on Rodney to save the day, how much Atlantis herself relied on Rodney, her very own Don Quixote, tilting at any threat.

Rodney's gaze was on John's face, still looking for something. John wasn't sure what it was, but he tried to be as solid and as _present_ as he could be. "I'm fine, now, Rodney. Thanks to you. I'm fine. Rest."

With only a brief hesitation, Rodney scooted closer, put a hesitant hand on John's arm. "You sure?" he asked.

John smiled and nodded. Yeah, he was sure. Between one breath and the next, Rodney began to snore gently. John settled his body as comfortably as he could and sighed. He could cover now, and he was prepared to stand watch over his personal hero for as long as necessary.

end


End file.
